I'm sorry, liebling
by sherlocks-skeletal-warlock
Summary: Prompt 51: Water. Gilbert tried. Really, he tried to make Roderich happy... It just seems to have backfired. PruAus fluff.


**A/N: I'M SO SORRY. I have no excuse for not updating except I have been watching SNK and reading all of George deValier's works over and over. However, I have been reading a lot of headcannons recently and voila! A thing for prompt 51: Water.**

**Based on this headcannon: Gilbert is a aware of Roderich's crippling fear of sea creatures, but he doesn't know that the Austrian is also horribly allergic to them too.**

**Disclaimer: Would you look at that? PruAus is not cannon. I can't own Hetalia then, can I?**

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I'm sorry, liebling…

Gilbert had decided for once to try and be romantic for his Austrian lover. It wasn't a special date or anything, but the Prussian had been arguing with Roderich more than normal lately. So, he decided that he would cook his lover a nice meal. Something expensive, something fancy...

Lobster. Prussia nodded firmly. He would make his sexy Austrian lobster stew as an apology for all the fighting that they had been doing recently. Roderich was out until late that night, at a meeting with his boss and it was the perfect time. Quickly, the Prussian stepped out of the house, locking the door behind him and hurried to the shops. He could do this, right? He was the awesome Prussia, he could make some awesome lobster stew for his prissy boyfriend.

Twenty minutes later, he was back with a lobster and a recipe for bisque.

"Right..." Gilbert muttered to his little chick. "Lobster for zhe prissy musician."

It took him hours to get the bisque right and he was exhausted by the end of it, but just as he was checking the flavour, the door opened and Austria stepped inside.

"Gilbert!" he called, moving into the kitchen. "Mm, somezhing smells good?"

"I made you dinner, liebe. As an apology for all zhe fighting ve've been doing..." Roderich's heart melted and he stepped forward to kiss Gilbert's cheek.

"Danke Schön, meine liebe." With a kind smile, Prussia gently guided Austria into a seat and placed a bowl of the bisque in front of him, another in front of himself. Without questioning the food, the aristocratic nation dug in, rather hungry after his long and dull meeting with his boss. The bisque was delicious and Gilbert was secretly rather pleased with himself as the two of them polished off the whole dish. Then Roderich yawned and stood up.

"Zhat was truly heavenly, Preußen, Danke. But if you vill excuse me, I am razher tired."

"Ah, Ja. Ve should sleep." Quickly, the albino tided up the bowls from dinner and led the Austrian upstairs. As soon as Roderich had reached their bedroom, he collapsed on to the bed with a yawn. Gilbert tittered.

"Zhe meeting really zhat bad?" asked the Prussian, perching next to his Austrian lover.

"It vas so dull I could have cried," mumbled the other, not moving his head from the pillows. Soothingly, Prussia rubbed his hand down the length of Austria's back.

"Sounds it. But zhe awesome me is here now, so it's all okay, ja?" Roderich only made a soft humming sound in agreement, burrowed into the pillows. Then his eyes widened and he sat up.

"I… I need to go to the bathroom." The Austrian bolted to said room and the confused Prussian watched him go. A moment later there was the unmistakable sound of retching and coughing, which caused Gilbert to hurry after him.

"Roddy? Roddy, baby, are you okay?" Austria was leant over the toilet bowl, throwing up the contents of his stomach, which happened to be Gilbert's lobster bisque. The aristocrat moaned weakly in response; face a nasty shade of green/grey as he threw up again. Frowning worriedly, the Prussian knelt beside him, rubbing his back soothingly. It was then he realised that Roderich wasn't breathing right. Each inhale was weak and raspy and there was far too short a gap between breaths.

"Okay… Rod? Roderich, vhat's vrong?"

"I-I feel t-terrible…" gasped the Austrian, coughing a little.

"Okay, bed for you." Without a second thought, the Prussian scooped up his lover and took him back to their room, ignoring his groans of protest.

"I-uhhnk… G-Gilbert… G-Gil, I'm going to zh-zhrow up…" Lying the other nation carefully on the bed, Gilbert hurried off and found the wash basin, running back to Roderich with it.

"Here, little master." The Austrian gripped the basin, retching, but his stomach was empty. Chewing at his lip, Gilbert slipped into the bed beside him, rubbing his back as Austria wheezed. Prussia wasn't usually one to worry, but his lover was getting paler by the second and there seemed to be an odd rash-like irritation blooming on his hands. This was further confirmed when Roderich itched at the rash, whining.

"Nein, Roddy, don't itch… It's not gute…" he chided absently, holding the musician's hands. "Vhat's vrong vith you?"

"V-Vhat vas in zhat soup?"

"Ze stew? It vas lobster." The Austrian's eyes widened and he shook his head a little.

"Gil… I'm allergic to seafood."

"Sheiße." Gilbert scowled deeply and laid him back. "Vhat do I do?! You look like you're going to die, Roddy!"

"Just, go to zhe doctors' und get some an-antihistamines."

"Okay. I vill look after you zhen." Roderich smiled wanly at the sentiment, settling back into the pillows.

And that is how, two hours later, Gilbert found himself with a fast asleep Austria in his arms who looked as pale as death itself and a sudden intense hatred for all and any forms of seafood.

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**Translations:**

Sheiße – Shit

Gute – Good

Nein – No

Liebe – love

Liebling – darling

Preußen – Prussia

Danke – Thanks.

Danke Schön – Thank you.

Meine liebe – my love.


End file.
